Chapter 01: My last match.
In the depths of vast space, where no sound exists except for the whispers of distant stars, beauty floats in every direction — colors blending like an eternal painting: dark blue melting into faded violet, meteors dancing as if they were writing poems in the void, and galaxies shimmering like lost jewels in an endless sea. The scene is mesmerizing, like a living dream — as if it's a place no human was ever meant to witness.
Suddenly… a whisper was heard.
Not from the outside, but from within the mind.
"Where am I?"
A voice asked — unknown, unsure if it was dreaming or… had awakened into nothingness.
He turned slowly.
There, right beside him, was a black hole.
Silent… still… yet heavy — as if it were watching him.
His eyes widened in awe, but they failed him — the image began to blur.
His vision shrank.
He pulled his gaze away quickly, a light shiver crawling down his spine.
And then…
Space vanished.
The scene shifted — suddenly — to a lavish room, Victorian in style, with every corner exuding wealth and refined taste.
The walls were adorned with wallpaper in elegant shades of antique red, pristine white, and calm light blue. Long curtains were drenched in the first golden rays of morning sunlight, casting a sophisticated glow over the polished wooden floor. An antique clock ticked softly and rhythmically on the wall.
In front of a tall mirror framed with intricate carvings, stood a young girl.
Her blonde hair was tied into a tight ponytail, reflecting her liveliness.
Her school uniform was traditionally Japanese — but with a twist. She wore gray athletic pants underneath, a blend of rebellion and comfort.
She was adjusting her small necktie in haste — clearly short on time.
Once finished, she turned and darted lightly toward a small white couch where her school bag lay.
She grabbed it quickly, exhaling deeply, as if bracing for a long day ahead.
Without a glance behind her, she exited the room…
The door closed softly in her wake.
She began descending the long staircase with steady steps, each one making a faint sound on the velvet red carpet stretching smoothly below — like a path made for royalty. The stair rails were crafted from polished iron, adorned with 19th-century classical engravings that shimmered under the light of the crystal chandelier hanging above.
The walls flanking the staircase were covered in wallpaper with faded golden floral patterns, bordered with dark wood frames, and decorated with massive oil portraits of noble faces from generations past.
The air was scented with French rose and white musk — a fragrance worthy of a place that knew no modesty.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the girl looked as if she had stepped out of a painting — her modest uniform starkly contrasting the overwhelming luxury that surrounded her.
And yet, her presence didn't fade into the background...
It was calm — as though she was used to this wealth, yet refused to let it consume her identity.
She walked across a hallway paved with white marble veined with elegant gray, passing beneath high arches adorned with classic columns, until she stopped in front of a heavy double wooden door inlaid with polished brass.
She gently pushed the door… and it opened.
And there she stood, facing the dining room.
A spacious room, with a long dining table stretching like a noble's arena at its center. The floor was made of fine wood, adorned with soft, hand-carved patterns. Crystal chandeliers hung high above, scattering their glow across the ornate cups and plates. The room's color palette leaned toward creamy white, royal red, and soft gold.
Everything spoke of elegance, order, and a family that never failed—at least on the surface.
But behind this beauty… there was an unspoken feeling, as though this refined castle concealed something deeper than just exquisite taste.
At that moment… the girl lifted her eyes to the table — preparing to face another morning in a world far more complicated than it seemed.
As she entered, a few heads turned toward her in silent welcome. There was no need for repeated morning greetings in this house. The family had long adopted a more refined way of communication — glances, subtle smiles, and barely visible nods.
At the table sat ten women — or rather, ten sisters.
It was as if genetics had conspired to create a lineup of human masterpieces, each one a perfect blend of beauty and dignity. Their blonde hair, whether flowing or elegantly tied up, shimmered under the morning light. Their blue eyes — the very same ones she carried — wandered between dishes, books, and snippets of casual morning conversation like blossoming branches.
Each of them was her own universe:
One wore a sleek legal suit and reviewed files on a tablet while eating. Another had an earpiece in and was speaking a foreign language. A third sipped her coffee while reading an international newspaper. A fourth wore a pristine medical uniform and quietly finished her breakfast.
Despite the variety, a dignified silence united them — a soft stillness, like background music at a high-society ball.
At the head of the table sat the father.
A handsome man in his mid-forties, carrying the kind of heavy, timeless charm you'd see in old aristocratic portraits.
His black hair was neatly combed back, and faint wrinkles graced his face in a way that only enhanced his undeniable allure.
His sharp, dark eyes silently surveyed the table. He didn't need to speak to make his presence felt — he possessed the kind of charisma that commanded attention without effort.
And though his daughters hadn't inherited his coloring or features, his pride in them was clear in his gaze, as if looking at the greatest creation of his life.
At the opposite end of the table, facing him, sat the mother.
A woman beautiful in her stillness.
Her blonde hair was elegantly pinned up in a classic style. Her blue eyes radiated a gentle kindness — not submissive, but peaceful. A rare aura only found in those who know when to speak… and when to simply be.
She wore a long ivory dress trimmed with lace, and simple jewelry befitting her status.
Her smile was soft but warm, and her eyes rested on the youngest daughter — the one who had just entered — with a familiar, wordless welcome, as if saying:
"Finally awake? The world is waiting."
At that moment, the girl took her usual seat between her seventh sister and her mother. She placed her small bag beside her and exhaled quietly.
But something felt different this morning.
Something she couldn't yet explain… a feeling clinging deep inside her.
A sense that… all of this would come to an end.
She shook her head, brushing it off as nothing more than a silly thought.
Then came a soft yet excited wave of welcome — as if the youngest flower had finally bloomed in the royal garden.
"Good morning, Princess of Deep Sleep!"
Said the third sister with grace, lifting her coffee cup.
"Did you wake up because you remembered the world is still spinning? Or because you're starving?"
The fourth chimed in with a sly smile.
Katerina, who was sitting quietly next to her mother, stretched slightly and replied with a flat tone and a sarcastic smile:
"No… I woke up because the castle started sounding like a flock of chirping birds."
The sisters' laughter broke out — half shocked, half entertained — as the maid stepped beside her and placed her breakfast plate in front of her: warm toast, boiled eggs, and a cup of milk tea with a touch of lavender.
The mother gently patted her shoulder without saying a word, her eyes filled with a mix of pride and caution — the look of a mother who knows her little girl is growing into someone unique.
From the other end of the table, the sixth sister called out her name:
"Katerina!"
Katerina raised her eyes lightly.
"Hmm? Didn't even ask if I was still alive first."
Her sister laughed and said,
"The final match is today, right?"
Katerina looked at her with a dramatically tired expression, then answered in an exaggeratedly serious tone:
"Yes… today the battle is decided… today we spilled sweat and blood on the field."
Then, as if she hadn't said anything dramatic at all, she calmly took a bite of her toast.
At that moment, the father quietly set his teacup down on the table, looked at his daughter, and said in a steady but gentle voice:
"We'll be there."
Katrina stopped chewing for a moment, raising an eyebrow.
"You… all of you?"
He nodded once, with a gentle smile:
"We'll drop everything and come… We'll arrive before the game starts… to watch you, and wish you luck."
A soft silence fell over the room.
It wasn't just an ordinary promise.
In a household packed with appointments, success, and pressure… for everyone to drop everything just for her?
That meant something big.
But Katrina, as always, masked her real feelings with a small smile and said:
"Then I guess I'll have to win… I can't embarrass you in front of the crowd."
Everyone laughed, even the usually grumpy sister couldn't stop herself from smiling.
The mother lifted her cup and said calmly:
"Katrina… just be yourself, and we'll always be there."
And suddenly, Katrina felt something strange—
A warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the tea.
She kept staring at her plate for a few moments, her blue eyes locked on a piece of toast, as if hoping to find the right words in its crispy surface.
She wanted to say it…
"Thank you."
But the words stuck in her throat.
She opened her mouth a little, breathed in quietly,
"Tha—"
And stopped.
That odd, heavy feeling again—like her throat would close up every time she tried to say something emotional.
She knew exactly what they meant, how rare and precious it was for them to make time just for her, but… for some reason, she couldn't get the gratitude out. It was like her heart understood, but her mouth didn't translate.
As she tried a third time, still not lifting her gaze, she felt a warm hand gently run through her hair.
It was her seventh sister—the quiet one who always sat beside her without saying much.
Her fingers moved softly through Katrina's ponytail, as if saying, without words:
"It's okay… we understand you."
Katrina looked up at her and said nothing. Just a quiet smile—small, but real.
A smile tinged with shyness… and peace.
Across the table, the father leaned forward slightly, moved his tea aside, and said in a deep yet soft voice:
"Katrina, we're not waiting for words. We see you every day… and that's enough."
His voice was like a warm blanket placed over your shoulders on a cold morning.
The mother looked at her daughter with a gentler smile, calmly stirring her tea, giving the moment a quiet grace.
Then, softly, the conversation moved on—to the upcoming ball at the palace, to fall fashion, to the new puppy the fifth sister was planning to adopt.
The clinking of spoons returned, light laughter floated through the air—
As if that small emotional silence was just a passing cloud… and now, the sun was shining again.
But to Katrina…
That moment taught her something:
That true family understands you—even when you fail to say a thing.
POV – Katerina
While the chatter buzzed around me and laughter flowed like background music, I was... a bit distant. Somewhere else — inside my head.
I looked at my mother.
Larisa. A stunning Russian woman, forty-five years old, but she looked like she just stepped out of a luxury jewelry ad.
She's not just my mother… She's a businesswoman running a luxury car company with a soft — yet merciless — grip.
Smart. Elegant. Her voice is always calm but decisive.
And then there's my father, Takashi.
Japanese, forty-eight. A successful, quiet businessman. Wise, like he'd spent years meditating on mountaintops.
From their stories, I knew their marriage was traditional — she was fifteen, he was eighteen.
A marriage of convenience, like thousands of others in the world of money...
But fate was kind to them. Or maybe their hearts were stronger than the deal.
Dad was always gentle with her, treating her like something rare.
And Mom, even with all her strength and strictness, melted only for him.
They truly loved each other.
And they loved the result of that love even more: us.
Can you believe it? Every time my mom gave birth to one of us, my dad threw a party!
Every time, he picked out a different dress for the baby based on her vibe — as if to tell the world,
"Look… I'm proud of her, and of the gift she gave me."
Then my eyes moved to my sisters...
Ten girls — each one her own universe.
Despite the fights, and all the endless drama, we really love each other.
We were always together. For everything.
When I was younger, and someone had to take me somewhere, they used to play the straw game.
Each would pick a straw — and the one with the shortest had to take me along.
They taught me everything.
How to cook, how to carry myself, how to defend myself.
How to speak with confidence, choose the right perfume, match colors,
Even how to punch without breaking a nail.
I've learned things beyond my years.
I've learned to be strong, yet gentle.
Smart, yet quiet.
But unfortunately, I can't express my feelings, which often leads to misunderstandings—
people think I'm arrogant or something like that...
Oh by the way…
I looked at their faces now.
Anastasia, the professional chef, arranging the dishes with artistic flair.
Ekaterina, the fashion designer, wearing a dress she made herself.
Victoria, the boxer, eating like she's in a race, but watching everyone like she's guarding the table.
Nadezhda, the doctor, one of the most skilled of her generation.
Alyona, the investigator, who literally has the nickname "modern Sherlock Holmes."
Rin, the lawyer, rambled about "disputes in employment contracts" as usual.
Sakura, the singer, a global music icon.
Misaki, the perfumer, fills the air with her newest soft fragrance.
Hinami, the tailor and sculptor.
And Yumeko… smiling at me, trying to mimic me, as always — a rising actress.
And me?
Katerina. Sixteen.
The last girl in the golden lineup.
Still in high school.
But I've found my place — for now.
The girls' basketball team.
I'm not the strongest, or the fastest…
But I've got something.
Brains, clever plays, sharp focus, real passion — and I'm a killer shooter.
My five teammates? They've got my back like no one else.
We've trained, we've cried, we've fallen — and now…
We're in the finals.
Today.
No room for error.
Everyone's watching.
Everyone will be there.
Everyone… will see me.
And I have to win.
Not just for myself —
But for all those hands that held me since the day I was born…
And yeah —
For that dad who throws a party after every win...
Like it's the very first one.
•••
As Katerina finished the last bite of her breakfast, she gently set down her fork, dabbed her lips with a linen napkin, then stood with her usual grace and elegance. A soft smile appeared on her lips—not fully joyful, nor sad—just the smile of a girl trying to hide something.
Katerina:
"I'm heading out now… Don't be late for the game, okay?"
Everyone exchanged farewell words with her…
Anastasia said: "Be strong as always, my little doll."
Victoria shouted from the end of the table: "And if anyone tries to ruin your game, choke her out with the system!"
Laughter erupted all around. Even her father, Takashi, smiled and said: "We're always proud of you, Katie."
Katerina nodded, holding herself together. She walked toward the door, her steps light and graceful, though inside her was a storm of emotions.
She reached the doorway… then stopped.
Slowly, she turned back.
Her eyes landed on the dining table…
Her ten sisters were laughing, chatting, eating their breakfast like nothing was about to change.
Her father poured himself tea, her mother spoke with a warm smile.
A still moment. Quiet. Completely ordinary…
But to her, it felt eternal.
Katerina (POV):
Why does my heart feel tight like this? Like I'm… saying goodbye? No. That's stupid. Just nerves before the match. But why can't I even describe it?
She closed her eyes for a second… then shook her head firmly.
"No, this isn't the time to hallucinate. I'm the star today."
And just like that, she turned around and ran toward the main door, the tail of her hair swaying behind her as if the wind itself was pushing her forward.
She opened the grand palace doors. The sky was clear, the sun shining bright… but inside her, there was a heavy feeling.
The driver waited by a sleek black car, opening the door for her with his usual smile. But she didn't return it.
She got in, closed the door, and rested her head against the window.
The car started moving, and Katerina silently watched the place she grew up in…
Unaware that this morning might be the beginning of the end of the world she once knew.
To be continued…
Questions for you?
1. Did you feel like Katerina was saying goodbye to her family… without actually saying it?
Was it just nerves, or is there something deeper beneath the surface?
2. Have you ever experienced a moment that seemed "normal"… but somehow felt like the last?
3. How do you interpret the final line:
"This morning might be the beginning of the end of her familiar world."
Do you think something major is about to happen? What do you think it might be?
4. Do you think this match is just a simple game? Or could it be the gateway to something much bigger?
5. Is Katerina truly ready to be "the heroine today"? Or is there something unexpected waiting for her?
6. What do you think "her last match" really means for Katerina?
The end of a chapter? Or something more dangerous?